He woke in a strange bed, in a strange place, to a smell he couldn’t immediately identify. His senses went from happily fuzzy warm rested to highly alert battle ready. The blanket on the strange bed was soft and slippery, high quality, alien, hugging him. The mattress was soft, too. Softer than his own. The smell was… earthy. Not the smell of a Starfleet vessel; definitely not the smell of the cleaned sheets aboard Enterprise.
And he rarely got sun in the eyes when he woke.
Well, actually… never.
Malcolm Reed opened his eyes and blinked once before looking around. He was in a large, oval room, held in soft, brownish colors. The walls were decorated with colorful rugs. There was a large window front with something like Venetian blinds, but they had been left cracked open.
Memories came back and with it, the battle readiness turned down a notch.
He was on Drocheda, a small planet they had come across just a week ago. Captain Archer had followed the invitation of the Spokesman of the Clans, and they had ended up in the middle of a kind of Spring Festival. The Spokesman had offered them the place of guests of honor and Archer had been Archer: he had accepted. In all their names. Without knowing all the risks.
Reed smiled humorlessly. When would the captain ever learn that consulting his security chief was neither painful nor contagious?
Malcolm’s eyes fell on the form lying half twisted into the sheets next to him.
Oh yes.
Right.
There was that.
At least he wasn’t drunk and wondering what had happened and who was in bed with him. He knew exactly what had happened and who was in bed with him.
And he wasn’t ashamed of it.
Not the least.
It had been quite… nice. Not as difficult as he had first imagined it.
As he moved almost stealthily out of bed, dressed in his regulation boxers and t-shirt, Malcolm ran a hand through his unruly hair. He stretched leisurely.
Shower, was one of the first things to cross his mind. Shower, then head for the customary morning meal, after which they were supposed to depart.
Thank goodness.
Apparently he hadn’t been stealthily enough because the second figure in the bed moved. A dark head appeared from under the covers and squinted into the sun just rising over the hills.
“Oh…. Morning already?” came a sleepy mumble.
“Yes. Bright and sunny.”
“Oh.” Dark eyes fell on Reed. “Good morning.”
Malcolm smiled. “Good morning, Hoshi.”

* * *

Trip Tucker came awake to the feeling of someone curled up next to him, sharing body heat, while he felt strangely colder than he should be. At least when wrapped in a blanket… wrapped in a…
Blanket!
He scowled and a questing hand found nothing covering him but his underwear. He cracked an eye open and found his blanket wrapped around the second occupant of the wide bed. And the occupant had the guts to snuggle close and seek even more warmth.
As he moved, there was a soft, protesting groan coming from the mountain of blankets and a hand snuck out, trying to hold on to him.
Trip cleared his throat and sat up, out of reach of the lone hand.
The hand froze, was retracted, and suddenly a tousled head poked out of the blanket. The face belonging to it turned beet red.
“Oh my god!” came a squeak.
“Nope, just me.”
“Uh, sir?”
Trip rolled his eyes. “I think after last night you can call me Trip.”
“Uhm. Last night.”
He grinned. “Last night,” he confirmed.
The blanket mountain shuffled a bit away from him… and fell right off the bed. The edge had been closer to her side of the bed than his. Trip couldn’t suppress a chuckle as he bent forward and looked at the disheveled ensign.
“Good morning, Liz. Slept well?”
Bangs of hair were shoved out of the still flushed face. “Errr, yes, thank you… You?”
“Aside from freezing my but off because I had a blanket hog sharing my bed…. Fine.”
“Uhm, sorry about that.”
He waved it off. “I’m used to it.”
Ensign Elizabeth Cutler gave him a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know the Lieutenant was a blanket hog.”
Trip grinned. “And you don’t have it from me.”
She made a ‘mouth zipped’ gesture and smiled. “Heard nothing, know nothing.”
“So… you want to shower first?” Trip asked.
“Shower. Right. Yes. Thanks.”
Cutler stumbled to her feet, still clutching the blanket, and shuffled over to the bathroom. Trip leaned back against the head of the bed, legs crossed at the ankles.
All things considered, last night had really gone well.

* * *

Malcolm came out of the bathroom, dressed impeccably as always, and Hoshi tried to stifle a sigh. Not that she had any hopes for more than what had happened last night. No, that was probably as much as any woman could ever get from the man. But watching him move around in underwear was mouth-watering to say the least.
Damn, pull yourself together, girl! she chastised herself.
“Ah, Malcolm?” she called.
“Hm?”
Hoshi tapped her chin and the lieutenant frowned, then turned to look into the mirror, grimacing. He had missed a spot of shaving cream. She chuckled as he wiped it off.
“At least I didn’t cut myself with these knives,” Reed grumbled. “They should be classified as battle weapons!”
“Well, I know someone who would kiss your wounds to make them better,” Sato teased.
Gray eyes narrowed. “No, I think the person in question would probably keel over laughing.”
She smiled.
Wrapping her hair into the usual pony-tail to keep it out of her eyes, Hoshi surveyed herself in the mirror. Everything looked as it should be.
“Ready?” Malcolm asked.
She nodded. “Let’s face the morning meal.”
Reed didn’t look happy, but she knew he would suffer through it.
“Malcolm? You can do it,” she encouraged him.
He chuckled. “Pep talk?”
“Whatever. We managed last night, we can do this as well. And in three hours we’re on our way. No more clan traditions and expectations.”
He squared his shoulders. “Yes. You’re right. Back to routine.”
“Routine can be nice.”
It earned her a grin.
They stepped out of the guest room and were immediately welcomed by two clan guardsmen, the two who had brought them here last night and had stood ‘guard’ throughout the Dark Hours. Malcolm’s face was a mask of professionalism as they were led to the morning meal.

* * *

Trip smoothed his slightly wrinkled uniform. It looked like he had fallen asleep in it. Great.
“It’s fine, Trip,” Liz told him a third time.
“Uh-huh.”
“No, really. But if you think it’s not, how about you don’t wear it?” she teased.
Trip shot the younger woman a glare. “In your dreams.”
The sultry look in her eyes surprised even him. “If you knew…”
Tucker smiled. “Liz, no offense, but…”
“I know, I know. Well, a girl can hope.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not.”
Bantering, the two made their way to the door and were welcomed by their guardsmen. The two men gave the pair a brief once-over, then flanked them. As they were led to the great room where the morning meal would be taken, Trip caught sight of Malcolm and Hoshi. Both looked rested. As not other expected, Malcolm’s uniform was neat and without wrinkles.
Only him, Trip thought.
“Looks like they came to an agreement as well,” he commented.
“How much of a gentleman is Lieutenant Reed?” Liz asked. “Would he sleep on the floor?”
Trip pretended to think. “Nah,” he finally laughed.
Cutler chuckled. “Low opinion. Tsk-tsk.”
“I’m allowed to say that,” Trip told her with a grin.
“Oh really?”
“Yep. I practically live with him.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Do what?”
“Live together?”
Trip frowned. “Because the Lieutenant and I already do, Liz.”
“You don’t share quarters,” she pointed out.
“We’d probably kill each other before the end of the week. This is just fine as it is. Believe me.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.”
“Okay.”
Trip shook his head. A lot of people were interested in his and Malcolm Reed’s love life, no one more than the two women currently at their sides.
Which was also why they had spent the night together. Well, Malcolm with Hoshi and Trip with Liz.
The Drochedan people didn’t know same-sex relationships. Apparently, it had never happened in their society, and according to what had been pulled out of the Vulcan database, it was seen as highly unnatural. Just like being single at a certain age was categorized as unnatural. All of it wouldn’t have posed a problem if the Spokesman hadn’t invited the whole away team to the festivities, meaning Tucker, Archer and Reed. The Drochedan expected each male to be with their female, since the concept of going far places alone was also alien to them. They were a space-faring people, but didn’t venture much outside their own territory.
So for one night, Trip and Malcolm had ‘acquired’ their ‘female’. Hoshi and Liz hadn’t seen the men’s request as an affront at all. Both women had been more than happy to lend a hand. No one could have known that their hosts expected them to spend the night here as well.
Actually, it hadn’t been such a hardship for Trip. From the looks of it, Malcolm had survived as well. He just wondered how the captain had faired – with T’Pol.
“Mornin’, you two!” he called as the other two Enterprise officers joined them.
Hoshi gave him a wide smile. “Good morning, Commander. Slept well?”
“Like a rock. Even though a blanket hog left me freezin’ in the mornin’.”
Cutler blushed.
Malcolm twitched a smile. “Well, I had a wonderful night. Hoshi doesn’t snore.”
Trip looked affronted. “And I do?”
“Yes.”
Liz snickered and Hoshi hid a smile behind a hand.
“I do not,” Tucker growled.
“Oh, you do, you do. You cut down half a forest each night, Trip.” Gray eyes sparkled mischievously.
“At least I don’t steal blankets.”
“Is it my fault you don’t put up a fight?” came the innocent question.
“We have two an’ somehow you end up with both of ‘em.”
“Why are we discussing our private life in front of our colleagues?” Malcolm asked, raising his eyebrows.
“’Cause they know more ‘bout us than they should anyway.”
“Who? We?” Hoshi and Liz asked simultaneously, batting wide eyes.
“Oh, beware of the look of innocence,” Trip muttered.
“Look who’s talking,” Malcolm retorted.
Before Trip could reply, the Captain came in, accompanied by a very dignified looking T’Pol, and the Drochedan Spokesman. By his tired look, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. Entirely his fault, the engineer thought.
Trip had decided to share the large bed from the start. He had no intentions toward Liz Cutler and while the ensign liked to flirt and watch him and Malcolm, she wouldn’t approach him either. Except to steal the blankets.
“Good mornin’, Cap’n. Sub-Commander.”
“Good morning, Commander,” came the calm reply from their Vulcan crew member.
Archer nodded at them all, looking like he needed a – very – strong coffee, then sat down next to Tucker.
“How was your night?” Trip asked conversationally, but his blue eyes danced with amusement.
“Quiet. Thank you.”
Which meant he had probably insisted to sleep on the floor, Trip translated. Now he’s stiff and sore and wondering what he did to deserve it.
His grin widened and he met his lover’s eyes. Malcolm was stoicism incarnate. Except to the man who knew him better than anyone. Trip saw the brief light of amusement in those wonderful gray eyes, then it was gone again. Yep, Malcolm knew their captain just as well.
Breakfast was served minutes later and the Spokesman inquired politely into their nights, possible problems, and then smoothly changed to a day-to-day topic.
 

Jon Archer looked at his four officers, noted how rested they all looked, and had to suppress a glare. He should have had the least problems, since sleeping in the same room as T’Pol wouldn’t actually lead to any kind of sexual problems. As it was, he had slept on the – very hard – floor, while T’Pol had occupied about a third of the – very large – bed and slept well. He could have shared; she had offered. But pride and the gentlemen he was had protested.
Now he was paying the price. A stiff back, a cramped neck, a headache, and the prospect of playing the role of a married man for another three hours.
Oh well. All in the name of good relations with another alien race.
Smiling at their host, Archer took the mug of steaming hot liquid given to him by a servant. It was the equivalent of Terran coffee and he almost inhaled it. Smiling at the Spokesman, he tried to follow the polite conversation.
Sometimes it was hard to be the captain.

* * *

He woke in familiar quarters, in familiar sheets, in a familiar environment. And most important, a familiar body in his arms, wrapped warmly around him, the soft breathing disturbing the fine dusting of chest hair. Trip smiled involuntarily at the feeling of inner warmth and content he felt. Only one person could do that to him, without doing anything more but existing, loving him, being there…
Malcolm was in his bed, and while they had done nothing but go to bed together and fall asleep, the inner warmth refused to leave. The sex was always good. It was fantastic, really, and he couldn’t get enough of his lover, but they didn’t need it to define their relationship. It was a part of it; it wasn’t the relationship.
There was so much to it, Trip had no idea where to start if ever asked. So much had bound them together, thick and thin, ups and downs, getting them closer instead of pushing them apart. If someone had told him he would ever fall for this dark-haired Brit with his sexy accent and love for heavy weaponry, fall for him so badly he wouldn’t look anywhere else, he would have waved it off. Sure, the first encounter had been a one-night stand. He had been aware of it, even though he had started to fall even back then.
But afterwards… when they saw each other mere hours after parting… realizing who the other was… Trip hadn’t believed it possible. Still, here they were. Tight, bound together, more than just ‘an item’.
It was why he hadn’t felt any alarm or even jealousy at the prospect of Malcolm and Hoshi spending the night together in the same room in the same bed. His lover wouldn’t betray him. Trip would swear on it.
“Thinking?” a sleepy voice drew him out of his thoughts.
“Kinda.”
“Too early for that.”
Trip could feel the movement of lips against his skin where Malcolm’s head rested. A soft sigh escaped his lover and a gentle hand stroked the skin it could reach.
“So… About what?”
“You. Us.”
“Oh. Okay. Anything insightful?”
“That you’re the most amazin’ man I’ve ever met, Mal, an’ that I love you very, very much.”
“Oh. That.”
Trip laughed and tousled the already wild looking hair. A protesting groan made him grin widely.
“Yes, that.”
“So I don’t have to worry about you and Ensign Cutler running off together?” Malcolm asked, voice still soft and kind of sleepy.
“Nah. No comparison to you, love. You’re one of a kind.”
Malcolm raised his head and folded his hands over Trip’s chest, resting his chin on them. “Tested it thoroughly?”
“Yep.” Blue eyes danced slyly.
“Liar.”
“As thoroughly as I could get away with,” the engineer amended.
“Liar.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not a word.”
“I’m hurt.”
Malcolm grinned impishly. “You’re too much of a gentleman, Trip Tucker to take advantage of an innocent woman.”
“Somebody make a note! He called me a gentleman!” Trip called, laughing. “And whoever said Ensign Cutler was innocent?”
“Uhm, Trip?”
“Hm?”
Malcolm played with some chest hair. “You prefer to sleep naked, don’t you?”
“You know I do.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows rose suggestively.
Trip frowned.
A pointed look.
“Oh. Oh! No, no, Mal, I was completely dressed.”
“Ah.”
“Well, I was out of uniform…”
“Aha.”
“But I wasn’t naked!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mal!”
„Hey, I know how fast you take off your clothes... if given the right incentive…”
The dark-haired man yelped as Trip flipped him around, pinning him down.
“The right incentive?” Tucker growled roughly. “And you think Elizabeth Cutler could give me one?”
“She at least gave you half of it, because you undressed down to your underwear.” Malcolm grinned up at his lover.
The engineer bent down and bestowed a loving kiss on the nose of his trapped partner. “But she was severely lacking in the second half of the incentive department,” he murmured.
“Really?”
“Definitely.”
Tucker released his hands and Malcolm wrapped his arms around him.
“I think I believe you, Charles Tucker.”
“You think?” Trip’s forehead wrinkled in a frown.
“I need more convincing.”
“Oh really.”
“Really.”
And Trip kissed him. Deeply. Thoroughly. Completely.
“Hot damn,” Malcolm managed after they had parted.
“I take it Mr. Reed is convinced?”
Gray eyes, softened and filled with rising heat, met blue ones. “Getting there.”
“Ah.”
“Need some more.”
“Ah-ha. Bet I can make you scream..."
Malcolm’s eyes widened as Tucker went for his prize. "Don't you even try......oh, shit....bloody hell..."

* * *

Cutler sat in the mess hall, stirring a cup of cappuccino. She raised the spoon out of the cup and licked off the milk foam. Her eyes wandered over to the two men currently pouring over a PADD, both very much concentrating on work. One was scribbling notes.
Nothing much to see.
Two men doing their work.
But Elizabeth Cutler knew better. She knew where to look. Those two said more with their eyes than their bodies, even if they didn’t really make goo-goo eyes. After such a long time, she would have found one looking like a love-sick puppy at the other slightly disturbing anyway.
“So, how was your night?” Hoshi asked, interrupting her observation.
Liz sighed dreamily. “Wonderful. Yours?”
“Likewise.” Hoshi looked regretfully at her empty plate where minutes earlier, a scone had sat. “A perfect gentleman.”
“Oh yes.”
“Well, it was nice while it lasted.”
“Oh… yes…. indeed”
“Liz.”
“Hm?”
“You’re staring.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Liz Cutler!“
She looked at her friend. “Uh, yes?”
“They are taken, remember?”
“How could I ever forget.” A dreamy sigh left the other woman’s lips. “But we had one night. That’s more than the other girls will ever have.” She grinned. “And I know some of them are downright jealous by now.”
Hoshi mirrored the wolfish grin. “Oh really?”
“Yes, very jealous. I mean, it’s something to sit with them in Decon, half-naked and smeared with gel, but share a bed for a night?” She made a little ‘victory’ sign. “We’re the kings, Hoshi.”
The communications officer chuckled and picked up some crumbs, licking them off her index finger. She looked over to her favorite couple, who was still all professional and working.
“You’re looking,” Liz whispered into her ear.
“I know.”
“It’s not… proper.”
Both women looked at each other, then started giggling softly.
“But it’s fun,” Hoshi added.
“Oh yes. It sure is.”
And they continued watching.
 

“They are staring,” Malcolm muttered.
“I know.”
“I thought we’d be over that by now.”
“Why?” Trip shot his lover a little grin. “Makin’ you nervous?”
“No. You?”
“Nah. Just feel like in a zoo sometimes.”
Malcolm’s eyes crinkled with the smile that flitted over his lips. “The monkey house is the most popular.”
“If this weren’t such a public place, Mr. Reed, you’d regret those words,” Tucker growled.
“Well, it is a public place.” Malcolm shot him a heated look.
“Then how about we relocate?”
“We’re on duty, Commander.”
“Two more hours.”
“I was thinking about pulling a double shift.”
“You wouldn’t dare…”
“Try me,” Malcolm challenged.
Blue eyes accepted the challenge. “Later,” Tucker said softly.
Malcolm just smiled.